#across distance and time;; letters from kayden | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bubble-tea-bunny · 6 years ago

Text

before you go

[sidon x reader]

author’s note: i swear this story wasn’t even meant to be like, that long, but i just kept adding scenes. hope you enjoyyy

word count: 16,475

PROLOGUE

Millennia have passed since the day the ruins were swallowed up by darkness, but the witch in those woods remembers it well. She sees it vividly in her mind’s eye like yesterday: thick trunks of towering trees, whose roots cling deep in the earth, extending their branches with their lush green leaves, growing closer and closer and closer until the last sliver of sunlight disappears, no longer welcomed on the forest floor.

The light isn’t missed. What creatures lay in hiding here thrive without it, nocturnal animals left to roam all hours of the day, surrounded by perpetual night. Torches scattered throughout the maze of this forest, hanging on sconces of crumbling stone walls and statues, are ignited by the daring adventurer trying to find their way to the center. But they never get far, turning around and using their trail markers to direct their way back out, and with the passing hours, the flames flicker and whither, dying down to embers.

No one has found the witch. Her hut rests deep in the woods, in a shadowy corner that most have failed to reach. The lack of disturbances means she can work without interruption. She tends to a small garden whose herbs grow beneath the dim light of a lantern strung up on a nearby branch. When they’re fully grown, she harvests then organizes them on a shelf, where they sit ready to be mixed into her newest elixir.

They work well for a good portion of the concoctions she creates: healing tonics, draughts of strength, sleeping potions for the restless and nightmare-riddled. She keeps them in tinted glass bottles with cork stoppers and knows exactly which elixir is stored where. The magic she practices is hardly sinister, and she’s content to keep this peace. The magic she practices is innocent, until one day, it isn’t.

She finds the recipe in an old leather-bound tome covered in dust. The language is old but she understands it (well, what still remains that hadn’t faded with time, that is). The book is vague about what the potion grants, but all she knows is that given what it asks for, it must be powerful. To create it would be crossing over into more harmful forms of magic, yet she can’t find it within herself to push away the biting curiosity to delve more into what she has discovered. The aged volume seems to pulse with life in her aged hands, exuding a power of its own that prevents her from putting it down and forgetting what she was seen.

Gathering the ingredients would be a difficult and lengthy process, but she’s learned to be patient. She wouldn’t be going out to collect them; they would come to her. And they do, steadily, in the form of the rare travelers with the intelligence and determination to venture further into the forest, closer to the middle, and closer to the witch’s hut.

She doesn’t hurt them. She won’t hurt them. And she says that to them quietly even though they can’t hear her, having passed out due to her sleeping potion. She only needs one thing, one little thing, if they would be so kind as to hand it over…

By the time the traveler wakes up, they’re back on the path illuminated by their own hand, and they can’t remember ever happening upon the witch. There are other bits too, other recollections they won’t be able to recall, though when (if) they finally realize that, they’ll be far from this place, and thoroughly at a loss as to what happened to that one corner of their brain where memories are hazy, like staring through fogged glass, aching to see what lies on the other side clearly, but unable to do so.

Those stolen memories stay with the witch now, radiant essences in purples and yellows and blues, floating and curling in their bottles. They’re pretty to watch. She lines them up, checks off the list of ingredients one by one in the tome: anger, empathy, happiness, innocence… All taken from the unfortunate souls who come into the dark woods. They don’t anticipate losing anything other than time in the day, and as far as they’ll be able to tell, that is the only thing they lose while exploring here. It’s a small mercy, the witch reckons, that they won’t notice.

She has only one ingredient left, but there has been no one to collect it from. It’s as though the universe understands that’s she is so close to being done, and has delayed the moment when she should find what she is searching for, building the tension, the suspense. For all the patience she has practiced for the centuries she has lived, she’s never felt antsier than this instant, the days passing like years. The lighting of torches signals the presence of another lone wanderer, but she doesn’t see those spots of orange flames.

Her frustration is palpable. and she sighs heavily. She can do nothing but wait.

———

The roar of the waterfall is a comforting white noise to Sidon, and it gently pulls him into the waking world at the break of dawn. His eyes crack open, serving witness to the rising sun washing over the water and painting the town in golden light. He’s always sluggish in the mornings, in no rush to push away the grogginess beckoning him back to sleep for a couple more minutes, or several, or maybe another hour if there’s nothing of note to attend to.

This morning, he nearly rolls over to continue sleeping, but his gaze passes over the folded parchment on the nightstand, and as if he’d been shocked, he sits up straight, fully alert. Reaching over to grab the letter, he opens it to reread it for—well, actually, he’s lost count of how many times he’s read it. He skims it, looks for the date mentioned to confirm that yes, that’s today.

It’s still early for most of the other Zora to be up, but those who are greet Sidon with a quiet good morning. He smiles and returns them all without stopping his stride. No one tries to get him to pause a moment for conversation, and he’s certain they all know where he’s going for his walking to be so purposeful. This has happened many times before, and when Sidon is set on something, he thinks little of anything else. Kayden especially understands this, for he grins as Sidon approaches the steps to the inn, already knowing why he’s there.

Kayden needn’t speak, only nudging his head to the side, in the direction of the beds. Sidon nods in thanks and quietly searches for his goal, footfalls silent so as not to disturb those slumbering. He finds it on the far end, separated from the others who have checked in for the evening, and he feels a large smile creeping onto his face, unable to be contained.

He sits on the edge of your bed, reaching out to brush your hair away from your face. Your nose scrunches as the silky strands pass over the sensitive skin of your cheeks. Then your face relaxes again, and he thinks you’ve continued to sleep. He wouldn’t mind if that’s the case. He just wanted to see you, to feel you and know that you’re here again. And it would be enough to hold him over until you finally woke, and he would be graced with the sound of your voice.

It turns out he doesn’t have to wait, for you groan quietly and your eyes are brilliant even if only half-open with fatigue. You hum and it’s as if you’re trying to say his name, to question if it’s him, but you don’t have the energy to enunciate it properly. He understands perfectly anyway and says yes, it’s him, and he’s so happy you’re back.

He sets a hand on your face, being careful of his claws as he strokes your cheek. He’s considerably larger than you are, and the size of his hand emphasizes this fact more. You lay your own over his and hum again. It’s not another attempt to say his name or any other words. Rather, it’s one of contentment, almost a purr, and Sidon’s chest tightens and he can’t believe how much he can miss someone. You murmur that you’re happy your back too because home is where the heart is and you’d buried yours here a long time ago.

You yawn and stretch your arms, and he gives you time to wake up more fully. Once you’ve blinked away the last of the sleepiness, he stands and offers you his hand, asking if you would like to regale your adventures to him over breakfast. You grin and nod, accepting his hand to help you up.

Sidon won’t deny that he worries for you when you’re exploring. He knows you can fight, can take of yourself, but Hyrule is vast and there are dark corners with monsters even someone of your ability will struggle against. He says to spare no details of your journey so you don’t, recounting the close calls (of which there are more than he would like, though he would prefer none at all), and he calms himself down by assuring himself that you sitting across from him isn’t some figment of his imagination. You’re real. Though if that’s not enough, and he needs more proof to keep him grounded, he reaches across to feel your soft skin beneath his fingers.

It’s like he’s being told a bedtime story with the sense of epic your retellings contain, filled with obstacles and triumph, and he thinks he’ll dream of it tonight, dream of you being front and center, the hero trekking through the land on a quest. Not that he hasn’t already dreamed of you. Sometimes, when his heart is especially heavy and he’s laden with gloom to be so far from you, he dreams of calm waters and of you sitting at its shore, the low tide lapping at your feet and your toes curled in the cold dirt. Then you see him watching you and smile, beckoning him over, and he’s overcome with a sensation that it’s actually you he’s observing there, that you’ve stepped into his dream from wherever you are in Hyrule, reminding him no distance is too great to feel you are ever truly apart.

Of course, it’s all fanciful speculation with no bearing in reality, inspired by a love that makes him wax lyrical like he’s a natural born poet with one muse in mind (but he has no desire for any other because you’re the only one he needs). You don’t actually have the power to traverse through dreams, but it does feel like you when he sees you and interacts with you and Sidon figures that’s because his soul knows yours so well.

Being higher up in the mountains, the weather in Lanayru is more temperate, and you like to bask in the breeze and the sunlight from outside the town, away from the noise. Sidon joins you, and he admits to you that every now and then he comes out here while you’re away, but it doesn’t feel the same.

“This beauty is difficult to enjoy with no one to appreciate it with,” he remarks softly.

You smile and lean your head on his shoulder. “I saw the most incredible statues in Gerudo and thought the same thing.”

The two of you are perched on the edge of a small cliff overlooking the Zora River, where you aren’t going to be interrupted anytime soon considering it’s sizable distance from town. There were plenty of other wonderful areas from which to survey the strong current of water as it flows downstream, towards the wetlands, that are closer to Ruto Lake, but you like to come here because the air at the Bank of Wishes feels different somehow, in a way Sidon can’t delineate with words but he sees it in the sparkle of your eye when the sun shines over you just right.

Stepping onto this small section of leveled ground is to cross the threshold into a realm where things are not as they seem, and you’re privy to the revelation that this is where the strings of the world are tinkered with and manipulated. It pulls the sun and the moon across the sky, pulls the strings of a soul like a harp and the ensuing breathy sigh of a fondness newly discovered is the song. It pulls you and Sidon with threads wrapped around your fingers, guiding you here, and then towards each other. And Sidon loves nothing more than to hear you sing.

He’d stumbled across you once, having arrived at the bank before he did, and he nearly called your name but remained quiet once he realized you were preoccupied with a red container. The stems of blue nightshades are looped through the small ring on the thick golden band wrapped around the cylindrical vessel, which you’re taking extra care with securing. You continue to kneel next to it even after ensuring the flowers won’t slip out, and he can’t hear what you’re saying but he thinks he knows what words you whisper.

Then you push the container into the water, and it lands with a small splash. You stare as the current takes it around the bend, and when it’s out of sight, Sidon comes out from his hiding place. You turn around, eyes wide in surprise to be caught off guard, but you relax at the sight of him and Hylia’s blessing rests in the curve of your lips and he could live there forever. He understands the glow of those flowers was a piece of yourself and you’d wished for it to seek out the one you wanted to give it to, and the water fairy is constantly listening because he stands before you now, and his heart warms at your knocking of the front door, and he knows pretty blue nightshades wait on the other side for him to welcome home.

You point out a school of fish near the surface of the water that’s passing by, and Sidon watches them with you as he takes hold of your free hand resting in your lap, anchoring himself to the moment. He’d happily live out his existence here with you.

He promises one day you’ll travel through Hyrule together. He can’t easily leave Zora’s Domain because of his obligations as prince, and you understand, you do, and in return he wants to give you better, he wants to give you everything. But your soft smile lets him know that he is more than enough for you. This universe could fall away around you both and he’s not sure you’d notice.

“I’ll have my darling prince to protect me then,” you state teasingly.

“You will,” Sidon responds, equally playful, but then the tone shifts and the jest fades and as he gently strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, he assures you that he’d always keep you safe. He would gladly be your knight.

While he would like to spend every hour in your presence, that simply isn’t possible, and he reluctantly leaves you to your own devices as he attends to his duties. You have no issue filling that time with conversing casually with the other Zora and with travelers about where they plan to go next. It’s from conversations with the latter that you tend to draw inspiration for deciding your next point of interest.

A fellow Hylian shares the rumors of skeleton horses in the Tabantha tundra which show up in the middle of the night, their red undead eyes like omens of ill fate. It sounds scary, she says, but apparently they’re gone by morning. Not even bones are left. She’s intent to witness these creatures herself, and she’s stocking up well here in Zora’s Domain since it’s a far journey. The idea of skeleton horses certainly grabs your attention, but you don’t think you’re as intent to travel so far, since you’d just arrived from Gerudo.

The Goron in Coral Reef mentions that he had just visited Lurelin Village, the small fishing town on the southern coast. The weather’s a little warmer, a little more humid, but that could easily be alleviated by dipping into the ocean for a swim. He paints the picture easily for you, of the turquoise waves and white sand beaches. He exclaims that the seafood paella is like nothing you’ve ever eaten before, and your mouth waters merely thinking of what it would be like to taste. You’d heard of it before, but never had the opportunity to try it.

He laughs at the glazed look in your eyes, your thoughts on Lurelin Village’s famed dish. “I’m tellin’ ya, ya gotta go down there and order yourself some!”

You nod in agreement and yeah, you do need to go down there to try the seafood paella! The Goron guffaws again and pats you on the back—That’s what I like to hear!—but he’s strong and even the light clap between the shoulder blades nearly makes you tumble to the ground.

With your mind made up, you settle down in a quiet corner to take out your map and plot a route to the seaside town. It’s still in Necluda, which means the actual travel time to get there and back won’t be long at all. You could make the Dueling Peaks stable your halfway point and cut through the forests, heading east for a short duration until the trails begin leading further south. You wouldn’t be gone as long as you were last time, and perhaps you could learn to make the paella and buy the proper ingredients to recreate here for Sidon to try too. Yes, this is perfect!

You sit back and review what you’ve drawn out on the map and the notes you’ve written on the sides. This map had been a recent purchase, considering your old one had been torn to shreds after a run-in with bokoblins. As such, it lacks the messiness of your original copy, which contained multiple lines representing the routes you’ve taken on your travels, as well as even more notes scribbled on the sides with tips or reminders. While this new map is certainly easier to read due to the lack of pencil marks all over the place, it’s missing the charm. But you suppose that’s hardly going to be a problem as you continue to move around Hyrule and figure out new paths to take in order to see as much of the land as possible. Just so long as another monster doesn’t sink their teeth into it…

The clean state of this map also makes it simple for you to spot a section of the map you had marked with a circle and a question mark. Your brows furrow as you stare down at it, attempting to recall when you had done that. You could vaguely remember being told stories about ruins there when you’d been at one of the stables. It starts coming back to you then.

The stable master had brought it up when it had been late and you were half-asleep, prepared to head inside to sleep. He’d spoken of a patch of trees in northern Hyrule, past the Great Hyrule Forest, and it had no name. Only the ruins hidden within did. Thyphlo Ruins.

It’s dark in those woods, he warned. Really dark. Other travelers who had stopped to rest at the stable had shared their experiences of attempting to reach the center, to see what might be there, but none of them had succeeded. They say the dark does strange things to the mind, the stable master explains. And the shadows… You think you see things that aren’t actually there. Not many have the mental fortitude to withstand the strain of being surrounded by pitch black for as long as is required to arrive at the middle of the labyrinth. You’d never heard of anyone that had gotten that far, so who’s to say there was anything to find there?

But… there had to be, right? It would make sense to if not assume, then at least hope something did, indeed, lie at the center, because for all the trouble one has to go through, a prize at the end, be it a treasure chest or a priceless artifact or some such valuable object, would be adequate recompense, especially if it came at the cost of near insanity. The world would show itself to be awfully cruel if the ruins had no reward to proffer, and while you consider yourself to be optimistic, you also understand that the world can be awfully cruel and you can’t rule out the possibility that a successful journey to the innermost parts of that forest may leave you empty-handed.

The more risk-averse would turn away from the prospect of exploring that mysterious patch of tightly packed trees, but you’ve the drive and determination to dive into it, to push through what might hide behind large trunks and mossy stone columns, and reach the end. You wouldn’t be satisfied with mere stories of others’ experiences. You want to have one of your own.

It’s early afternoon when Sidon is dismissed, leaving him with the rest of the day to spend with you. You’re sitting by the cooking pot at the inn, and the smell of baked apples reaches his nose the closer he gets. You don’t notice him because you’re preoccupied with what he registers is a map, which you hold in one hand, a slice of apple in the other. His mouth opens to announce his arrival, but his feet coming into your periphery causes you to glance up. A spark flickers behind your eyes and you could illuminate the whole of Zora’s Domain and that flash of love which steals his breath away because that’s for him, all for him are the dots of light in the corners of his vision whenever he should gaze at the sun.

He sits down next to you and points at the map. Planning your next adventure?

You smile and nod enthusiastically, showing him the route you’ve outlined for yourself. He’s first drawn to the lines leading south, towards the coast, but you pull his attention to the one trailing north instead, and his own smile begins to falter as he traces it back to the smaller but still dense cluster of trees above Great Hyrule Forest.

Though he’s not an adventurer like you, he’s heard his fair share of stories regarding the woods surrounding Thyphlo Ruins. The curiosity evident in the voices of those with a biting curiosity to travel within that mystifying landmark he fails to understand, for he feels no such pull, no such urge. The way he looks at it, if there is anything hiding there in the darkness, chances are, they don’t want to be found. And he’s perfectly content to not go looking.

But he is not you, and that is not how you look at it. You sound excited to have finally settled upon your next destination, and he feels bad that he can’t join you in your elation, not when his mind festers with concern for your wellbeing. He forces the smile back onto his face and does his best to support you in any other way that he can, finding it in the delight you exude at the prospect of continuing your exploration of the vast land of Hyrule. He’s glad that you’re doing something which you truly enjoy, and he tries to focus on that instead of where your passion is bringing you now.

Even for all of that, you know something is bothering him. He shouldn’t be surprised. You know what he is thinking, what he is feeling, by the small changes in his expression, by his nervous swallowing, and most of all by his slight hesitation to meet your eyes right away when you turn to him. He can’t shake the shame that creeps up on him that he can’t be as excited as you are, a notion that can’t be alleviated by the fact that you would never fault him for anything like that. He sees it in your small sympathetic smile and feels it in the warmth of your hand as you reach over to set it atop his.

“I promise I’ll stay safe,” you say, but you can only promise so much because to go somewhere that dangerous, there’s no guarantee of complete safety. Perhaps instead you voice it as a form of comfort, a reminder that Sidon needs every now and again that you’re being careful, and how could you not be when in the days spent traveling from place to place, your mind is filled with thoughts of returning here, to him, to home?

“I wish I could go with you.” He might not understand that yearning to explore the unknown, but he would venture into that forest without delay if it meant he could protect you, watching your back and the shadows outside your line of sight. He hates the idea of you being in there alone.

You squeeze his hand once in a gesture of reassurance. It mirrors how his heart squeezes as you look upon him so lovingly.

“I do too,” you remark quietly. "But we’ll have our own adventures one of these days. I’ll even let you mark them out on the map.”

Sidon smiles more genuinely now, beginning to relax. You’re trying to steer the conversation away from anything harrowing and he understands and appreciates that you are. It would do neither of you well to linger on any of the what-ifs. And he trusts you, truly, to be vigilant. You have been this long, and you’ve always come back to him.

As you outline your plans to him, he feels more at ease with the caution and preparation you’re clearly practicing. By the time the day of your departure rolls around, there’s only a small inkling of worry left in him (though that would always be there regardless of where you traveled).

Your evening spent at the inn isn’t a typical occurrence. You’d only done it because it was late when you’d arrived, and you didn’t want to disturb Sidon, no matter how many times he told you he wouldn’t mind. After that first night, you’d stayed with him in his own quarters, and it’s here that he laments how quickly the days have passed that you should already be leaving him.

Once you’ve checked that you have everything you’ll need for your travels, you close your bag and set it down on the table in the corner. Sidon is watching you from where he sits on the edge of his bed, and you walk over to him, taking the hand he holds out so he can pull you closer gently. His arms wrap around you as you stand between his legs, and you rest your own around this neck. You don’t look down at him and he doesn’t look up, for given that he towers above you when standing, in this position, both of you are eye to eye.

The world turns so slowly without you, he bemoans. I wish I could hold it in my hand to speed it up and bring you back to me sooner. You have wished for the same and smile wistfully at those sentiments he seems to have plucked from your brain. How must your days have felt before you met me? you tease, not really expecting an answer, but he gives one. Like eternity, he confesses.

He walks you to the very edge of town, and you linger at the end of the bridge, the walkway beneath your feet a soft blue accented by the glow of the luminous stones set in the pillars and arches. You stare at the trail leading away from Zora’s Domain and back towards the mainland, and Sidon’s staring down at you, and he doesn’t miss the pause in your stance, like you’re about to put one foot in front of the other and begin your journey but can’t find it within you to actually move.

“Hey.” He’s gentle as he draws your attention to him. “Are you okay?”

You purse your lips and he thinks for a moment you’re going to shake your head, but then you take him by surprise as you lunge towards him and hug him tightly. He’s quick to reciprocate, bringing an arm around your shoulders to hold you near. You murmur that you’ll miss him and your words are sunshine because he melts more and more with every syllable. Now it’s his turn to reassure you—he’s going to be here when you get back, and no stretch of land or water would ever be enough to separate you. Just think of me when you lay down to sleep, he says, and I’ll never feel too far away. If you had changed your mind and decided to stay here with him, he would welcome you gladly, of course. But he knows you won’t do that. It’s not in your nature. You hear the calls of the wild and yearn to follow them. Now go have a new adventure.

He stands there until you’re out of sight, and his walk back across the bridge is unhurried. You had wanted an early start, and by this point, the sun hasn’t quite yet revealed itself fully from behind the horizon. The fog above the water, which had been thick in the cold hours of the night, is starting to dissipate due to the growing warmth. Sidon lifts his gaze to the sky. It will be a nice day today, judging by the weather.

The duties he has to attend to as prince of the domain aren’t sufficient to make the time pass faster. He sits in meetings with his father and Muzu and occasionally the head of the guard, head leaning in his hand. His mind is elsewhere, and he stares out at the town like he might see you down there, waiting for him to be dismissed so he can join you.

“Sidon.” Muzu calls him sternly, the tone behind it slightly scolding.

Sidon blinks and reels his thoughts back in to the discussion, taking a deep breath and sitting up straighter in an effort to become more alert. His lazy movements betray how close he had been to falling asleep as well as any lack of guilt to be caught daydreaming. Muzu huffs and shakes his head but doesn’t bother to address his inattention. This isn’t the first instance this has happened, and the one solution would simply be to move on. Sidon’s thoughts would inevitably slip away to something (someone) else, and no number of reminders to stay focused would change that.

It’s also why King Dorephan isn’t irritated with Sidon’s behavior. While it’s part of Sidon’s disposition to be chipper, that attitude only persists during meetings (which even Dorephan will admit can be boring) if you’re in town. You give him something to look forward to when they finally adjourn, and he’d be energized for the entire duration. But the story is different when you’re gone, and though Sidon is happy to spend time with his friends, he’d enjoy it more with you around.

He understands what Sidon feels for you, and he knows there would be no stopping the drifting of his mind in your direction as he no doubt wonders where in Hyrule you are currently. As if on cue, he notices Sidon’s attention shifting again, eyes apparently staring at the wall but Dorephan has a suspicion Sidon isn’t admiring the architecture.

“I think we can stop here for today,” Dorephan speaks up.

Muzu trails off, confused and missing the look shared between the king and prince. Dorephan nods at Muzu, a motion of finality, and the advisor stands, bowing before making his leave.

“I’m sorry,” Sidon apologizes, and there is some guilt laced with it.

Dorephan grins and shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. You can’t help where your heart pulls you. The mind invariably follows.”

Sidon smiles slightly too, thankful that his father is sympathetic. He’d always been less strict than Muzu. Sidon stands and bows, about to follow Muzu out, but Dorephan halts his departure as he asks if you’ll be back soon. Sidon shrugs, for you hadn’t specified how long you’d be away (you tend not to, since even you don’t know how long your trips would be). He sighs instead and it’s rife with longing. She could return tomorrow and that wouldn’t be soon enough.

The days are merely the rising and setting of the sun, and the nights a constant reminder of you. The crescent moon is your smile and it guides Sidon across the threshold from the waking world to that of dreams. He wonders if you’ve followed his advice, to think of him as you fall asleep, and when he dreams of you, he’s sure that you have.

He receives no correspondence from you, and while odd at first, he isn’t bothered by it. You’re busy traversing Hyrule, and once you find an inn to settle down at for the evening, you’re probably too tired to write. He understands. Usually when you do send a letter, it’s with the date of your return, which is never too far off from the day that a courier hands Sidon the folded piece of paper. So that’s what he looks forward to, what he uses as a way of surmising that you would be coming to Zora’s Domain. If the courier is in town, he is watching closely, stomach buzzing with anticipation, only to be left disappointed when the messenger leaves, and he is empty-handed.

But he repeats to himself that as the days crawl along, the absence of letters isn’t worth fretting over. Sometimes, you don’t send one at all, and he isn’t aware of your presence here until the morning or night of, when he spots you walking around town, asking other Zora if they have seen him. He supposes he’s just grown used to the messages, for you had been sending them during your travels with increasing regularity. To receive none now is a disruption to the routine, but it was nothing more than that.

And it works for a while, convincing himself that you’re preoccupied with your exploration and perhaps have decided to take the long route back to Zora’s Domain. Though if this turns out to be the case, he does wish you would have sent something, at least to let him know you’re okay. Not that he doesn’t doubt you’d be careful, but he’d always worry about you in some capacity, a small inkling in the back of his mind that wouldn’t disappear until you were here with him again.

The morning that his concerns come to a head, and he actually starts to fear something has happened to you, is, coincidentally, the day you return. Muzu is the one to inform him, having seen you walk into Coral Reef the moment it opened. Sidon is quick to descend to the lower levels of town, every rushed step synchronized with the beating of his heart and he can barely contain his zeal, his happiness, his relief that you are back and you are safe. Because he won’t deny that this particular journey had gone on long enough without communication to warrant serious distress.

All the emotions welling up within him come out in a breath of near disbelief to find you right where Muzu had said you would be. Any tension he had felt uncoils and a sense of calm permeates his being from the top of his head down to his toes. His chest tightens because he’s missed you so much and you are back and the clocks tick at their normal pace once more.

You descend the steps of the general shop and as you come nearer, Sidon sighs your name and he has missed the way it felt upon his tongue. He waits for you to return it, to gaze up at him with that charming grin and whisper his name or shout it because you’re so excited but it wouldn’t matter either way because all he cares about is that he gets to hear you utter it.

But you don’t. You don’t run into his arms, don’t light up at the sight of him. Rather, you walk up to him at a leisurely pace, seeming to stop in front of him less because you’re elated to see him and more because he’s merely blocking your path. You tilt your head back to look up at him but you have no reaction to the toothy smile on his face. For reasons Sidon can’t explain, his expression refuses to fall, though deep down he knows something is off. The smile remains, however, the last vestiges of a hope that he’s just imagining those things and nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong.

“Um…” Your voice is tentative, like you’re choosing words carefully, like you’re not sure of what to say. He catches the brief drop of your eyes to his grin before you lift them again to meet his own gaze, and you shake your head as if to tell him that if he’s looking for someone, it’s not you. It can’t be you. “I’m sorry, but… do I know you?”

———

II.

Sidon’s smile dims, caught off guard by the question. You continue to stand there, expecting a response, and after a few seconds of silence, you raise a brow. But then he flashes another smile and lets out a small chuckle.

“That’s funny, [Name].”

You’re only joking, surely, pretending to not know who he is. His mind refuses to consider anything but, despite the fact your face isn’t breaking out into a grin, unable to keep up the charade any longer. When you hear him say your name, you don’t look comforted by it, you look confused. With brows drawn together, you shake your head again.

“Have we met before?”

Any semblance of joy on his face finally ebbs to nothingness, and his confusion matches yours. His heartbeat quickens but not in a good way, as realization dawns on him that you aren’t messing with him. You are entirely genuine, treating him like a stranger and thoroughly apologetic that he seems to recognize you and you can’t remember where you might have seen him in the past.

“It’s me…” he starts quietly, as if those are the key words and a section of your brain will light up in recognition. “It’s Sidon.”

You still watch him blankly, your demeanor unchanging, not picking up anything special to hear the name. But then your expression does change, your eyes widening after a few moments, and he inhales sharply, prepared for you to acknowledge him and maybe this time, drop the act and the joke and the two of you will spend the rest of the day catching up, enjoying the presence of the other. And he waits with bated breath for you to thrust yourself into his arms and for the strength of impact to steal that breath away as you express how much you missed him.

You don’t do any of that.

“Prince Sidon?” you exclaim. Sidon doesn’t nod to confirm it but you bow anyway, bent at the hips and staring down at the ground for a second then standing back up straight. “I-I’m sorry I don’t remember us meeting. Please forgive my forgetfulness, your highness.”

You wring your hands nervously and Sidon doesn’t want any apologies because you shouldn’t have to offer any. The bated breath leaves him in a silent and shaky exhale as the reality of the situation sets in. This isn’t a joke. The way you’re acting is authentic. You’re staring at him with no ounce of familiarity, and the look in your eyes reminds him of any other traveler who passes through Zora’s Domain and finds themselves anxious and unprepared to be in the presence of the prince. And it shouldn’t be like this. You aren’t just any other traveler, not to him. Though how could he expect you to know that now?

You’re still waiting for him to speak, hoping that he won’t be annoyed. But he isn’t. He could never be. Not with you. So he shakes his head, forcing himself to smile just a little, a polite one to put you at ease. “There’s nothing to apologize for. We all forget things sometimes.”

You visibly relax, shoulders drooping after being tensed those several long beats. Sidon doesn’t say anything more, and you have nothing else to add either, so you clear your throat, a failed attempt to break the awkward air hanging between you.

“Er… well… if I may excuse myself, then…” Your request for dismissal is shy and Sidon’s heart is twisting because this is how you acted the first time he’d ever met you, and the memories are fond but that’s how they should have stayed. Just memories.

“Of course.” He stands to the side to give you room to walk past him, and you bow again, though not as deep as the first, before skirting around him.

He stares at your retreating form, understands that it’s you who’s walking away yet at the same time, it doesn’t feel like it is. The one he has conversed with might have your eyes and your hair but perhaps it wasn’t actually you. It made no sense for it to be. Delight fills your gaze when you see him and it’s complemented by a wide smile as he brings you close and threads his fingers through the soft strands of your hair. But who he has just spoken with held no such delight in their eyes, and there was no big grin to behold, and they never came closer than a respectful arm’s length, clearly not sharing in the expectation that Sidon would hold them near and tangle his fingers in their hair.

No matter how many ways he tries to rationalize that he’d been mistaken, that it wasn’t you he’d spotted exiting Coral Reef, he won’t ever be able to deny the way his chest had tightened when he saw you, when he heard you speak though you used the words of a stranger. And he still feels the tug to follow after you, to get you to admit you have been joking and while it gave him a scare, he admires your commitment but now, life can go on as normal.

However, that’s not what would happen. Your reactions couldn’t be faked. He could implore you all he wants, to remember. He could beg you to dig around and uncover that corner of yourself, the place where he resides and where you understand how much you love him. He wants you to know he’s not just a prince, he’s your prince, and you mean the world to him. He wants you to remember it all, and there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach to know that you don’t. You can’t.

He’s at a loss as to how to handle these circumstances. Never has he been faced with something like this. The biggest question on his mind is how this happened. It’s not as though he could simply ask you. As far as you were concerned, you aren’t missing any memories to begin with. This was the work of some form of magic, surely. But it was none that Sidon had ever heard of. He’s in dire need of answers, but the only one who might know anything, as well as the only one he trusts enough to help him figure it out, isn’t in the domain currently. Sidon doesn’t know when he will be, but until the day his friend crosses that bridge into town, he is left waiting.

You stick around for a few more days, and Sidon finds himself falling back into the habit of searching for you. Before, he’d approach you the moment he spotted you, maybe even sneak up and surprise you if he felt particularly playful. But now when he notices you speaking to other travelers or having your weapons repaired at the blacksmith’s workshop, he keeps his distance. He stays far enough away that you can’t tell he’s staring intently in your direction, observing your sweet smile and straining his ears to listen to your laugh. All the while, he misses the time he’d been able to elicit those reactions from you, and his chest would swell with pride whenever he was successful. He wore your love for him like a badge, a reward of the highest honor. It’s practically impossible for him now to comprehend that he has been set aside to the margins, a thought far from your mind, because you have never left the center of his own and would never leave it.

It dawns on him one mid-morning that despite the hand fate has dealt, he’s not being prevented from doing those things which he had carried out with great pleasure when you looked upon him with so much love. He could try to make you smile, make you laugh, and perhaps the embers of forgotten flames might flicker to life.

You’re settled down by the cooking pot, drawing and scribbling on your map. Sidon approaches quietly to avoid startling you, but you don’t notice him. He ponders what he should say to you, what might make for polite and casual conversation. He has to treat you like a stranger, and it hurts him to do because as he watches you, he sees his whole life sitting there. And he could never be angry with you when you finally slide your eyes over to him and the fondness isn’t returned because you can’t know that he’d witnessed that all slip away the moment your memories were stolen. But he doesn’t know what to be angry at so he’s angry with himself, and he swallows the lump in his throat and tells himself it’s time to focus on you, just you, because you’re what matters.

He points to the map you hold. “You’re a traveler?”

You nod in lieu of replying verbally. He can surmise you’re nervous. So he smiles gently as he asks if he can join you.

“O-Oh, yes, of course!” You scoot over to make room for his much larger frame and he inserts himself into the spot rather easily. It all starts to feel familiar for him.

He glances over your shoulder at the map with its pronounced creases from being folded and unfolded. There are additional marks which have been added since you’d last been here, but he knows it’s the same copy because of the line drawn from the domain towards the south, to Lurelin Village. He addresses said route, inquiring if you’ve visited or planned to soon.

This pulls back the floodgates and with a few extra questions from Sidon to steer the conversation, you’re gushing to him about your interest in exploring Hyrule. You tell him of where you’ve gone and where you’d like to go, and he listens attentively, nodding and humming intermittently to show he’s following along. He can’t contain his little grin as he senses the passion in your voice and he already knows these things, your love for exploration and the vastness of the land. He knows all these places you have been to and the stories associated with each one. But he hangs on every word anyway like he’s heard none of this before and you’re so eloquent and heartfelt and he has missed the closeness of it all, as you open up to him.

Then your string of tales wanes. I’ve told you all the exciting parts, you reason. And you laugh nervously, apologizing for rambling as long as you had and not allowing much space for Sidon to talk. But he laughs with you and says it’s okay, he doesn’t mind. He prefers to listen. He’s so genuine as he looks at you that you have to look away for a second, cheeks warming.

With a plaintive sigh, you lift your head to survey what parts of the town you can see from the inn. The sun is setting and the sky is shifting from dark blue to orange.

“I don’t know why,” you begin, eyes narrowed as you stare into the distance, at the gleam of luminous stones set within the pillars as night falls, “but I always find myself coming back here after my journeys. It’s a special attachment that I can’t really explain.”

Sidon’s eyes are glassy but luckily you fail to notice because you’re not facing him. A heavy weight drops into his stomach and he wants to tell you he loves you and that there had been a point where you loved him too and that’s why. That’s why you feel the tug deep down to end every expedition here, why a part of you has made it instinct to call this place your starting point, your base, your home. Everything leads back to him and you’re so close but not close enough. You could always be closer.

You glance at him, and you’re none the wiser to the tears he has willed away, and your soft smile makes his chest tighten. For a second he might believe that things are normal, the way they were, and you’ll suggest the two of you watch the sun disappear from the outskirts of the domain where there isn’t as much light to interfere with the view. But he knows things are not normal and those won’t be the words to leave your mouth next so he tells himself you’ll be his view this evening, as the setting sun illuminates your features, painting your skin with orange hues and swirling in the depths of your eyes where it slumbers until the next day when you should wake, and the world will follow on your heels.

Sidon is alone in his bedchamber tonight, and the idea is uncomfortable, that you aren’t with him despite being in the domain. Suddenly his room feels even lonelier.

The moon hangs high in the sky and bathes the cold stone floor in light as well as kisses the expanse of Sidon’s scales as he remains near the window to stare out at the blackened waters below. He’s too preoccupied contemplating the events of today to try going to sleep. What rest he may manage to obtain will surely be restless, and he doesn’t consider that any better than not sleeping at all. Sometimes you liked to stay up to admire the moon, and he wonders if you’re doing that now.

He hadn’t talked with you for long, but it had really, genuinely felt good to hear your voice because he had missed you, during those few weeks apart. It lifts his spirits to see you walking around town. Your presence is the only thing that can pull him out of his slumps, its absence what put him there in the first place. He likes being around you because you make him want to sprout wings and fly, and you would always have that power over him, with your memories or no. He feels like he’s falling in love with you again (not that he’d ever stopped). Maybe you’ll fall in love with him again too.

You’ve set your sights on Lurelin Village, and you’re the one to instigate the conversation as you trot up to Sidon, noticeably more relaxed now, and excitedly tell him of your plans to go to the coastal town next. He mirrors your zeal as he envisions the bright blue waters and the warm sand. He’d like to swim there one day, he confesses to you. But since he can’t right now, he asks that you have fun for him.

Sidon has trouble masking emotions, and sometimes the strongest ones can slip through. That’s the only explanation he has for why you become bashful during an otherwise casual chat. Because he can’t hide his gaze of admiration and love for you no matter how hard he tries and maybe you’ve picked up on that. He ponders if you see glimpses of another life reflected back in his eyes where you aren’t merely guessing if he means to stare at you in that way because you are why that affection fills his being as he observes you.

You have already left Zora’s Domain for Lurelin Village when Link saunters into town on a gloomy afternoon. A week separates your departure and his arrival. Sidon greets him at the bridge and they make lighthearted banter over lunch. It’s not until they’re full, unable to eat another bite of their wildberry crepes, that Sidon finally brings up more serious topics. Namely, the situation with you.

Link listens closely as Sidon talks, eyes narrowed in concentration because there’s a problem to be solved and Sidon can’t solve it by himself. But Link is at a similar loss as to how this could have happened. He shrugs helplessly and sits back and says if this is some form of magic, he hasn’t ever heard of it before. I’ve never known there to be magic that could manipulate the mind.

Sidon is disappointed that he’s still stuck at square one, but he isn’t mad. They are out of their depths here. They have no idea how to combat that which is unknown to begin with. He speculates perhaps you had sustained a head injury, but that hypothesis doesn’t find any footing given that if that were correct, you should’ve lost more than just your memories of him. Link nods silently along, giving Sidon the space to think out loud.

With a heavy sigh, Sidon slides his eyes over to the Veiled Falls visible through the large windows and shakes his head, and he’s quiet as he divulges that he feels burdened by failure. He hadn’t been there for you like he promised. And you might have come back to him as you have always come back to him, but this time you didn’t come back to him whole. He should’ve gone with you. Then maybe whatever had happened wouldn’t have, and he wouldn’t be having this conversation, heavy with regret and melancholy hindsight.

Link hates to see his friend like this. The picture of the Zora prince before him is far from the Sidon he knows. Sidon’s the one to pick others up when they’re down but Link understands that the tables are turned now, and he is in need for the favor to be returned. Link has met you several times, when your stays in the domain have overlapped. It’s abundantly clear to him how much you mean to Sidon, and he almost feels as though he is sharing in the distress no doubt settling in Sidon’s entire being.

She wouldn’t blame you, Link asserts. Sidon’s movements are sluggish as he blinks and turns towards him. Neither of you could’ve predicted this.

Sidon agrees, silently, that that is true. But it does little to make him feel better, though he appreciates Link’s efforts.

At failing to garner a response from Sidon, Link purses his lips and picks at what remains of the crepe on his plate, pushing around a wildberry with his fork. He looks from his food to Sidon and back again, his mind a flurry as he racks it for some sort of solution. Granted, there couldn’t be many. Whatever had affected you had to be powerful, and there would only be so many methods to counteract it. The odds seem insurmountable but Link isn’t willing to give up because he doubts Sidon isn’t willing either. When it comes to you, Sidon is willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re okay. Whatever it takes…

Slowly, Link halts his poking and prodding of his food, eventually abandoning the fork entirely and leaving it stuck upright in the thickest part of the crepe. He reaches out to the glass of water to his left to take a sip and sneaks a glance up at Sidon, who isn’t looking directly at him, still staring beyond Link to the windows. Even without meeting his gaze directly, Link senses the misery. Sidon’s desperate.

But desperate enough to…?

Yes. The answer is yes because Link knows Sidon would lay down his life for you if it came to that, and so the idea Link is hesitating to share despite the fact it must be the only solution would be a small price to pay for your wellbeing. And what kind of friend would Link be to withhold anything that might help?

So he tells Sidon there might be a way to fix this, and he knows there’s no turning back when Sidon finally faces him and there’s the slightest light in his gaze, the flash of hope kept tempered in case the proposed solution goes nowhere and he be left even more disappointed than before. But Sidon would hold onto it tight because you’re the gleam of sunshine in the center of his eye and he would never let go of you.

There’s this statue… Link begins. There’s a statue in Hateno Village with magic of its own. It’s strong, and no one is sure how it works or where the magic comes from. But if one makes a request to the statue, the wish is granted, regardless of what it is. If you want the water to turn green, it’ll happen. No one’s tried to ask for anything so ridiculous, of course, not that there was any need. Those aware of the statue’s existence are aware of its power and do well not to make absurd requests for the sake of witnessing just how powerful the statue is said to be.

Link ends the explanation with the remark that this is what could give you your memories back, could make you remember Sidon. But he tacks onto that one final statement, more quietly: I think it might be the only way.

Sidon keeps silent as he mulls over what he’s learned. Whatever magic was involved with that statue, it must be dark, and while he might initially be opposed to dabbling in dark magic, the circumstances are too dire for him to be immediately reluctant. As it stands, he is giving it serious thought. Link had sounded confident that going to the statue would work, and that’s good enough for Sidon to agree that this would be worth looking into. However, Link’s quiet admission that this was the only solution spoke for consequences less than favorable, and while Sidon knows to expect as much considering the forces they’re reckoning with, Link’s tone had been dismal, as if to warn Sidon to be very, very careful.

Link is watching him closely now, and he takes a deep breath, feeling like he’s about to break a hundred years of silence when it’s only been around a few minutes.

“What does the statue ask for in return?”

The question was going to come up inevitably, but Link still delays answering. His hesitation to reply already speaks volumes. It takes a piece of your soul. It wants a slice of your mortality. He forces the words out, though it pains him to voice the suggestion. He wouldn’t ever want Sidon to surrender those things, whether it was just a piece or the whole. That was to surrender a literal part of himself, and he could never get it back. But ultimately, it was Sidon’s decision what to do, and as Link sits there, lets his words ruminate in the prince’s mind, he knows what Sidon will decide. Like he’d said prior, all of it, in the wider scope, is a small price to pay for you.

Sidon nods. He’ll go before the statue.

With his mind made up, the next course of action is figuring out when he can leave town to make the trip to Hateno. He would do it overnight and do his best to return to the domain as soon as possible the following day. He would try to make the journey there and back without stopping for rest but he knows that wouldn’t be possible because while he could swim via the Zora River, the distance from there to Hateno is still too large to cover at once. He would sleep enough to ensure he wouldn’t fall over and pass out from exhaustion, but nothing more. He couldn’t be gone for long.

The tail end of Link’s visit nearly overlaps with yours, but he misses you by hours. He leaves in the morning, and you arrive at noon. Sidon spots you at the inn, where you’re sitting on one of the beds, observing the hilly expanse of Upland Zorana and the Veiled Falls. The town is elevated high enough that the spray of water at the waterfall’s base can’t reach, but if it did, Sidon’s sure it would feel refreshing.

He calls your name gently and you look over once you hear it, giving him a curt smile before returning your attention to the scenery. He sits on the edge of the bed, giving you your space, and gently so as not to jostle you. The water beds are quite squishy.

“How was Lurelin Village?” he asks, and he’s smiling, prepared for the excited ramblings of your most recent escapade.

But he doesn’t get that. All he gets is a noncommittal shrug, and this leaves him rather bewildered. He might’ve been less so had you followed it up even with some simple and vague remarks as It was good or I had fun. It’s the complete silence that is out of the ordinary. He continues with another question, attempting to start a conversation. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

When he asks this, you shrug again, but you must sense that he doesn’t consider that a good enough answer at all (especially after the first shrug) so you elaborate. “I did.”

Sidon’s brows furrow but you don’t notice. Are you mad at him? He has no idea why you would be. You were in perfectly good spirits around him before you’d left Zora’s Domain, and he hadn’t seen you until you came back today. There was no opportunity for him to do anything that might arouse that resentment in you, not that he would ever try to do that. He can’t recall ever acting in a way that angered you. Instead, he owes it to the fact you may just be tired from the traveling. Once he considers this a possibility, he starts to feel a little guilty that he may have just interrupted you as you were about to take a nap.

You exhibit no signs of wanting to talk, staying silent and facing forward. With a quiet sigh, Sidon says he’ll let you get some rest because you must’ve had a long journey. He stands and walks back to the front steps of the inn and you make no move to stop him.

Sidon plays the interaction between you two over and over in his head that night. Sure, it really could have been that you were exhausted and that’s why you acted like you did. But he’s also sure that if that were true, he wouldn’t feel that nagging feeling in his chest that something is different. He knows you incredibly well, firstly. Secondly, this scenario reminds him of the worry he’d felt when you were away from the domain for longer than usual, and your return had quelled it up until he learned you had forgotten who he was, proving his concern had merit. Now he knows to give the benefit of the doubt to his instinct, because though his brain might reason nothing strange is afoot, his gut is pointing him elsewhere.

The following morning he finds you in the same spot, but you’re now sitting on the end of the bed, head resting atop your knees, which you’ve drawn to your chest. Sidon hesitates to go to you, not wanting to upset you again if it turns out that you truly had been tired, but he can’t prolong talking to you. He has to figure out whether it had been your lack of rest that made you abnormally wordless or if there was something more going on.

Good morning. He greets you in a hushed tone for your sake, not wanting to scare you. There was no one else in the inn he had to take care not to wake up.

To respond with a shrug is, evidently, too much energy for you now. Your eyes flicker to the side to glance at him just for a second, before they slide back to watch the waterfall. He sits on the bed next to yours, settling down at the end. For a few minutes, you observe the water together and the silence is almost comfortable. Sidon pretends the day is like any other, the two of you watching the current flow, winding its way between high cliffs. If you were closer to the river, you’d spot fish.

The moment of mere pretend is swept away by the wind that blows through the inn. Sidon turns his head to stare at you on the other bed, where you’ve not appeared to move an inch. This cathartic nature is wholly uncharacteristic for you, and he could hardly believe that who he’s seeing now is you, who have always been so energetic.

“How was your adventure at the beaches down south?” Sidon has accepted that he will need to be the one to carry the discussion along.

“It was fine.”

This is a verbal reply at least. But it leaned neither towards a positive connotation nor a negative and Sidon doesn’t know what to make of it. He’s even inclined to say that you sound apathetic. His suspicions begin to grow.

“Well… Have you started planning where you’d like to visit next?” There’s another bout of silence. He’s unsure if that means you’re thinking on his question, wondering where you want to go after your period of rest here, or if you’re ignoring it. Both were possible give how you’re acting and how little you move or speak.

You inhale deeply and stretch your legs out, hands braced on the mattress. Sidon perks up, thinking maybe he was wrong, maybe you’re okay and you were just tired, so you’ll be a little slow talking about your next destination and he won’t mind that one bit. You exhale in a heavy sigh, and it comes across as burdened and very tired.

“I haven’t thought about it, no…” You trail off, attention dropping to your lap. You pick at the loose thread on your pants. “I haven’t thought about much lately.”

The admission raises alarm in Sidon. It signals to him that something strange is going on, laying itself on top of the already bizarre occurrence of losing your memories of him. Were the two phenomena connected? He assumes them to be immediately, but you might have also run into trouble again on your trip to Lurelin Village. The cogs are spinning in his head as he tries to make sense of the situation, of what could be happening to you.

Gradually, he starts to make connections, just hypotheticals with no grounding. His confirmation could only come from you directly. So when thinks he might have found the string connecting both your loss of memories and your sudden lethargy, he asks you another question.

“[Name],” he says your name softly, “do you feel any urges to travel?”

You don’t stop to consider the question, and when you look at him, you seem nonplussed by it. The look in your eyes makes it seem as if you don’t even understand why you should be getting excited about something like that. You almost look bored.

“I don’t care much for it.” You shake your head.

And then Sidon knows, and he wouldn’t have if he didn’t know you so well. Whatever you had run into that stole your memories of him, it had stolen more than that. It had taken an entire emotion away. Now, not only do you not love him, you can’t love at all. The magic which has affected you must work gradually, and that’s why you were still passionate about your exploration up until this most recent visit of yours to the domain.

The sudden loss of your enthusiasm to travel across Hyrule is to have lost parts of your very being, and that’s how Sidon knows this isn’t just a change of heart or fatigue. You have never had a change of heart about your travels or come close to it. Your desire to roam the wilderness and discover what is out there is core to who you are, and you would’ve gladly done it for the rest of your life. But now you suddenly have no interest, and what’s more, you don’t even realize that anything is unusual about the fact you have no interest. The problem arising from what magic had struck you runs much deeper than simply forgetting him.

He wants to apologize. He wants to say it over and over until you’re sick of it. But of course you would never know why he was so apologetic, and there’s an ugly twisting in the pit of his stomach because he wants you to get mad at him too. For saying sorry too much or for letting you get into this mess in the first place because it’s his fault. He deserves your anger but you don’t even have any to express. As it stands, you understand yourself to have no resentment for him. He wishes he could lament to you his failure to protect you and maybe still you wouldn’t be mad and you’d say that you don’t blame him like Link said you wouldn’t, but Sidon needs to hear it from you and he just wants you back.

He doesn’t know who stares back at him as you look over, having started to think that the silence had stretched too long. You tilt your head, prepared to ask if something is bothering him, but he stands up before you can.

“I’ll give you time to wake up more fully. It’s early. I’m sorry I intruded.” He flashes a brief smile in farewell, then turns quickly, the smile dropping once he does. He’ll never know if you tried to stop him in that moment, hand held out as if to get him to pause, before the words die in your throat, and you let him go.

Technically, it isn’t that early in the morning—the shops are all open—but he had to get away before he broke down in front of you. You, so unaware, left feeling detached by no choice of your own, at the center of the whole affair without even realizing. You’re beginning to drift farther and it hurts the most when you're sitting next to him, and he’s forced to bear witness. And he can’t believe how much he can miss someone.

———

III.

Link returns three days later and they make preparations to leave for Hateno that same afternoon, just as the sun begins to set. The golden hour might be better to enjoy in a happier context, but it’s the glare in Sidon’s eyes today when he glances west.

He’d told Link of what had transpired with you and Link frowns as he listens. The circumstances of your memory loss keep getting stranger and stranger. As they’re riding out of Zora’s Domain, Link wonders aloud if this might mean you could get worse if they didn’t do something to fix it. Sidon says he doesn’t want to think about what might happen, but deep down he can’t help but entertain the thought, wracked with paranoia as he has been these past weeks.

Would you continue to lose more of yourself? Perhaps your inability to feel love is only the beginning. Perhaps as the days wore on, you’d gradually become unable to feel much else, until you were just a shell. But who would do such a thing? Sidon fails to wrap his head around what might drive someone to do something so cruel and to someone so sweet. You have plenty more to lose if Link’s speculation is true, and Sidon’s inclined to say that the process is already underway, because how could he ever hope to see your smile again if there’s nothing that makes your heart burn with passion, to a degree so high you can’t contain and it pulls the corners of your lips up and crinkles the corner of your twinkling eyes?

The more of you that fades, the more Sidon perceives himself following suit. You’re a big part of his life and he can’t imagine it without you. He doesn’t want to. Without you, he’s just a prince, and the title pales in comparison to what he means to you. The honor of one day taking over as ruler of Zora’s Domain doesn’t mean much if he’s alone.

It’s the middle of the night when they arrive in Hateno Village. They had been diligent in their travel, taking as few breaks as they could manage. The main road of the town is empty, everyone having gone to bed earlier, and all that lights their paths are the torches in the wall sconces and the lamps hanging above locked storefronts. Said lamps sway gently with the cold breeze, the flames flickering to near ember before the gust stops, and they roar back to life.

Link comments that he’d never made the trip from Zora’s Domain down to Hateno so quickly before, and it’s meant to be a small joke, to brighten the mood. Sidon humors him with a small chuckle, but is unable to muster anymore than that. But Link understands, and quiets down as he leads him to their goal.

Sidon’s chest is heavy as he realizes what he is about to do. The notion of approaching the statue had seemed so faraway in the days leading up to this trip and while on the journey to Hateno, like a dream, but now he’s here and this is real. These last few minutes are his last chance to back out, but he won’t. He doesn’t even consider it. The consequences sound harrowing, to trade part of his mortality, part of his soul, but he knows it’ll be worth it. If you got to be whole again, he could live contentedly in a fractured state. Maybe he won’t even feel any different, so long as he could see you be happy.

Link walks through Hateno as though to go to his house, but instead of ascending the hill, he takes a path leading farther down, between two rock faces, their heights blocking the moonlight from reaching the grass. They’re cast in shadow and with no light source in this area, they can barely spot the statue on the other side of the large boulder, positioned like it’s in hiding.

This statue is larger than the goddess statue in town, its horns protruding menacingly, the points dulled down with age; and its wings are spread, adding height to the already imposing figure. It’s clear that this statue receives no care or maintenance. The stone is dark from dirt and moss, riddled with cracks and flattened in corners where the tips have crumbled, forced to withstand the elements and unsuccessful in its efforts.

No one comes to maintain this statue, Link says. He and Sidon stand before it, staring at its state of disrepair. They say a dark energy looms here.

Sidon nods. He’d had a sense of foreboding once they stepped into the presence of the horned statue, the power of it weighing on him, like it knows that he’s here to strike a deal, and it’s pressing in on him, forcing out the words and the commitment. Vaguely, he wonders when the last time anyone had approached the statue was. What it asks for is serious, and only the most grave of situations could lead someone here, in their most desperate hour. The statue is a last resort, and a chill runs down Sidon’s spine as he becomes aware of the power it must have. Dark magic does exist, its tendrils snaking through Hyrule, ominous and dangerous and unbelievably strong. Perhaps it was the work of Hylia herself that such strength is so hard to find, to accidentally stumble upon. Dark magic plays no games with fools.

The overgrown grass blows with another gust of wind and sifts as Link adjusts his stance, resting his weight on one foot. He glances up at Sidon. Are you sure? he asks. There’s a second part untacked to his question, but Sidon understands it fine—this is his final opportunity to turn around.

Link would never judge him for backing out. Dealing with dark forces is hazardous, and not everyone is capable of standing before the statue, shoulders squared and confident, ready to trade with it, a fractioned section of their soul and mortality for the granting of their one wish, their chief desire. Even Link doesn’t think he could do that, and for Sidon to be here only makes him respect the Zora prince more. But if in this moment Sidon were to turn away, Link would understand. The deep discomfort, of the air squeezing too tightly the longer you’re here, digging in like claws, is the ultimate trial, to test one’s resolution and commitment. Not all can bear it.

However, Sidon hardly looks bothered. His eyes are aflame with determination, and it reminds Link of why he respects Sidon so much in the first place. The resolution pumping through his veins has been there since the beginning. He doesn’t back down from challenge or adversity, and in matters concerning you, he only fights harder. That’s why when Link had given Sidon one last chance, one last out, he already knew the answer.

Sidon nods. He’s sure. His mind had been set the moment he’d learned of this statue.

Link leaves Sidon alone, mentioning that he’d be at his house, back in the direction they came from. I’ll get a fire going, he says. For when you get there. As Sidon takes the last few steps to stand right in front of the statue, Link starts walking back up the hill, throwing a somber good luck over his shoulder.

For a few moments, Sidon stares at the statue, unsure how to begin. Does he approach this as though he were at a statue of Hylia? Should he kneel? A breeze blows through, the two hills where the statue sits between forming a wind tunnel which makes the gusts strong. The chilly air seeps through his scales and he feels heavy, like there are weights in his stomach and attached to his ankles so that he’s unable to move from this spot. And then he hears a whisper, in the back of his head.

Shall we strike a bargain?

The sinister spirits looming within the statue have made themselves known, but Sidon doesn’t yet know how to form the words, to string them together and communicate his wish. He would have to phrase it carefully to avoid being misunderstood, and in attempting to phrase his request, he realizes he is at an impasse.

Whether or not he would come before the horned statue to make a deal had never been a question nor a doubt in his mind. It had seemed simple to him: he would make the trade in return for your memories. It was clearcut, precise. But now things are hazier and the line is blurred because the recent developments concerning your missing emotion had made it less so. This was not as easy to navigate, and your wellbeing hung in the balance.

If he were to ask for your memories back, for you to love him again, he’d get that. The statue would honor any demands made, as long as the price is paid. But that’s all he would get. And while he’d be over the moon to feel that once more, what it was like to be loved by you, it isn’t enough. It’s what Sidon wants but it isn’t what you need.

No, what you need is to feel love again at all. If the statue granted the wish for you to remember and love him, your love would only stretch that far. Sidon knows the phrasing of the request is of utmost importance, because though the statue accepts and carries it out, dark magic takes delight in skewing the words until the result scarcely resembles what was asked for. He just gets one wish, and to ask for you to remember him and to love again are two.

His chest tightens and it hurts and this twisting isn’t the work of the horned statue. The internal conflict is nearly too much to handle but in the incomprehensible flurry he knows what he must do. He knows what he wants for you, because from the very start, this was about you and it would always be about you because he loves you. He loves you so much his heart is cracking down the middle and he is preparing himself to let you go.

That’s what they say, isn’t it? If you love something, let it go. Sidon’s made tough decisions before but this is by far the toughest. The reason for it is due to his difficulty in coming to terms with what will happen from here, after he voices his wish. He already knows he wants what’s best for you, and he knows that’s what he will ask for, but he’d spent so long clutching to you tightly, he doesn’t want to see you carried away, the wind scooping you gently from his embrace. But for you to be your old self again, in its entirety—capable of love for the sunrises and sunsets, for the flowing water of the rivers, for exploring the full breadth of Hyrule and sharing your adventures with any willing ear—is more important. He cares more that you can love, even if it means you wouldn’t love him.

You won’t remember him the way you knew him before, won’t know how much you loved him or how much he loves you, but he would show it as best he could. And though he hates to consider it, you might fall in love with someone else anyway. He can’t see the future but if it came to that, he would have to be ready. In these several seconds he mentally steels himself for the possibility, and it doesn’t make the weight of his decision any lighter, but he basks in the small comfort that he will see you full of love, and he would be happy with that, even if you gave it away to another. You falling in love with him would just be a bonus, and if you don’t, he’ll still love you, and he hopes somewhere deep in your subconscious you will understand just how much.

A heart so big shouldn’t go empty. This final thought pushes Sidon over the edge, and he makes known his wish to the statue.

Link looks up from stoking the fire when the front door creaks open. Sidon peeks his head through then steps fully across the threshold, quietly shutting the door behind him. The air is solemn and at first, Link hesitates to say anything, but he figures maybe Sidon would appreciate it, as something to ground him, bring him back to earth after the ominous atmosphere he’d been immersed in. How did it go?

Sidon doesn’t respond immediately, but Link is patient. He stares into the orange flames, then inhales deeply, chest expanding, then steadily exhales. Link surmises it isn’t a breath of burden. It almost sounds light, a sigh of relief. But Sidon wears no smile to complement it.

“I made the deal,” Sidon states. He isn’t particularly wordy, deep in thought of what has occurred.

Link doesn’t push him to elaborate. What had happened was a private matter, and if Sidon didn’t want him to be privy of details, he wouldn’t ask about them. Instead, he nods, then returns to his original task of gathering ingredients to cook a simple meal for both of them. As he throws everything into the pot, he suggests they leave for Zora’s Domain before the sun rises. That would give them a few hours of rest. If they’re just as diligent as they had been on the way to Hateno Village, they should make it back by noon.

They eat in silence, the only noise the crackling of the fire and their spoons clacking against the bowls. Link’s attention is on his food, and he doesn’t notice Sidon’s contemplative gaze.

“It’s interesting,” Sidon remarks suddenly, and Link turns to him. “Considering what I’ve traded, I don’t feel any different.”

Link hums, and he smiles a little. It’s a small form of pity, he guesses, that one feels the same with a fractured or a whole soul. The horned statue has some sympathy, it seems. Upon this comment, Sidon chuckles, the tension leaving his shoulders and the air relaxing into something more comfortable. By the time they ride out of Hateno, it’s normal once more, and they’re chatting casually, as if the events from a few hours ago hadn’t happened, or occurred too far in the past to remember or linger on.

You aren’t in Zora’s Domain when they arrive, and you still don’t return in the few days that follow. Link says he’d like to stay and wait for you, to see for himself what has come of the bargain Sidon made, but he has his own business to attend to elsewhere. Sidon is understanding, and tells him it’s okay, but Link still parts regretfully. He parts with Sidon with hopes that you’re doing well. It certainly has been a while since he’d seen you. Maybe some day soon your visits here will intersect.

Sidon waits for you anxiously, and he’s antsy during meetings with his father and Muzu. He resumes his usual practice of gazing out the window in search for you, and for multiple mornings, it’s fruitless. He doesn’t see you out there, and his shoulders sag in disappointment with every day that passes. He falls asleep at night pondering the nuances of the wish he made, if the results were immediate or if they were gradual. If it was the latter, surely by the time you finally walk into town, he’ll witness what came of his journey to the horned statue. He knows his desire was fulfilled, the statue true to its word, but he can’t help the small inkling of doubt that nothing had changed.

Finally, finally, he spots you crossing the bridge on an early morning, the soft glow of the luminous stones encasing your figure as you walk, and the only assurance he isn’t dreaming is the jump in his chest of his heart skipping a beat.

He runs down to greet you and you prove to him that something had changed, everything had changed and it changed for the better because when you see him, you smile so widely and exclaim that you need to tell him of your latest adventures to the cold planes of Hebra. And you’re so beautiful Sidon might cry. He’s missed you. He voices that to you, how it felt like you’d been away for so long, and you laugh, wondering aloud It couldn’t have been that long, surely? and you’re still grinning at him as you continue jokingly Are you that lost without me around?

Sidon chuckles. His own smile is fond and maybe you detect that, or maybe you don’t. “You have no idea.”

He spends the rest of the day with you, listening intently to your stories. His reactions might be a little overdone, but you don’t appear bothered, instead seeming rather appreciative of his rapt attention. It feels good to hear you ramble. The passion is tangible.

This continues to be the state of things from then on. You venture out to a new location, and he waits for you, eagerly awaiting your tales. You’re always eager to share them. A warmth floods him on the day he spots you sitting by the cooking pot at the inn, map in hand as you scribble notes on it and trace out new routes. You’d had to replace the map again, and you’re embarrassed as you admit it had flown out of your grip on a windy day and got stuck in a tree, too high for you to climb up to retrieve.

“At least last time it was because of a fight with bokoblins, and that sounds much more exciting,” you lament, but you can’t pretend to be sad for long as you break into giggles at the silliness of it. “But maybe one day the wind will knock it free and carry it to someone who needs to find their way home.” You shrug nonchalantly at the casual hypothetical.

Sidon’s mouth twitches, a grin fighting its way to the surface. You are so kind, and do you realize that, he wonders? Do you realize the extent of the compassion you feel? He’d like a heart like yours, with enough room to welcome anyone who requires shelter.

You notice his silence and glance over, head tilted as you ask if he’s okay. He’s fine, he promises you. More than fine. He’s doing wonderful. You seem to doubt him briefly, watching him closely for a few beats until you concede. Your lips curl into a smile, satisfied that he’s being truthful. Good, you say. Sidon smiles softly at the straightforward response, curt but relaying perfectly how much you care.

The two of you lapse into a quiet again but it’s comfortable. You sit there together, and a kaleidoscope of butterflies runs loose in Sidon’s stomach. He might grow those wings any second now and take flight. If he does, he’ll be sure to hold his hand out for you to grab onto, if you want to tag along. He hopes you do. You’ll never know the things he did to turn you back to your normal self, but that matters little to him. What he’d traded was worth it, and he would do it all again.

Besides, he’s too busy marveling at that greatly missed warmth in your gaze to feel like any part of his soul had ever gone missing.

———

EPILOGUE

You have a tendency to wake up at dawn.

It’s a habit you figure has been instilled from the constant traveling. You prefer to start the day before the sun rises, in order to take advantage of the crisp morning air. Sometimes the afternoon heat is harsh enough you have to stop more often to rest, hiding in the shade of a large tree just off the trail. Such instances typically delay your journey and set you behind, and it irritates you only until you remind yourself that the journey to your destination was just as important as reaching the destination itself. The whole purpose is to explore to Hyrule, to bask in what it has to offer, and perhaps the silver lining of the hotter days when you’re forced to stop earlier than planned is that you’re allotted more time to slow down and admire the scenery.

The rays of the rising sun shine through patches of clouds dotting the sky as you walk along the dirt path, and your cheeks flush at the cold wind prickling at your skin. It had been dark when you left the inn, but the sun will have fully risen when you get to your goal. This would’ve gone much faster if you weren’t carrying a wooden container. It requires the use of both your hands, for it’s heavy, and you move slowly, occasionally setting it down to take a break. In the few minutes you use to rest, you like to study the water down below, and the way it glitters in the early morning. The steady current is a quaint white noise to keep you company on your trek.

Once you finally arrive at the small section of leveled land overlooking the river, you set the cylindrical vessel down and heave a sigh of relief. Your arms will probably be aching from how far you’ve had to bring it. You might feel it by lunchtime, but you won’t mind.

You’re facing east, lone audience to the sunrise, and settle down at the edge of the cliff, legs crossed, and open up the container to take out the parchment and pencil you’d placed there before you set off.

Where you sit currently has been named the Bank of Wishes. Finley had told you about it once. At this place, the river gladly receives the confessions of the heart and carries them away, and the subsequent days are spent hoping they might find their way to the one they’re meant for. It sounds fantastical, like make-believe, but perhaps that’s the point. There’s a magic here that makes the impossible possible, if only you’re willing to believe. And you are.

You think you can feel the difference in the air, the hospitality of the breeze swirling around you, still cold but not at all unpleasant. There are a few fireflies fluttering about like little fairies, blinking silently, still brilliant against an orange sky. The nocturnal creatures would retreat shortly, but for now, they take interest in the container at your side, and as they come close, you hear the faint flicker of their wings.

Your heart does the thinking while you draft your letter and your mind merely follows, and maybe it’s the hum of the lightning bugs’ wings or maybe it’s something else that resounds in your head, murmurs of welcome, as though whatever roams here unseen is glad that you have stopped by. You’re glad you’ve stopped by too, and the lightness that fills you as you take a deep breath is simultaneously the work of the crisp, gentle breeze and the mystical presence curling around you, goading the words out, the admission, the feelings you have for the one who means a lot to you, means the most.

Once you’ve signed the letter, you read it over. There are some spots you’ve had to scratch out a spelling error but even for those flaws you think it’s perfectly written. It says everything you need to give voice to. You nod to yourself, satisfied with what you wrote, then fold the parchment and reach back inside the red container for the third object you had placed within, the last piece in the process.

The pale blue nightshades seem to glow, as you hold the stems in one hand and cradle the petals in the palm of the other. Carefully you tie them to the golden band wrapped around the vessel, bending the stems appropriately but never pulling too hard for them to snap. They’ll be a small beacon, lighting the way for your letter as it floats along the water.

After that’s done, you set the letter inside then close the lid, checking that it’s secure. When you’re satisfied that it won’t pop back open, you reposition yourself to sit on your knees. You aren’t quite sure what you should say, if there were any traditions or methods of opening the conversation with… well, with whatever wanders here, waiting for another confession to guide downstream. But any worry of starting it wrong is nonexistent, and you keep it simple.

Your heart’s in that container, you think, for you feel no need to speak aloud. Whatever is here would know your thoughts. You heart’s in that container and you’d like for it to be kept safe. It may have far to travel but your heart’s already used to that. You’ve journeyed through this land, from end to end, and what more could the space between you and the one you love be? If it were wide as Hyrule or even wider, you would close the distance gladly. A hundred miles is a hundred steps to you, to reach who your soul yearns for.

Now all that’s left was to send away the vessel. You turn it onto its side, then give it a firm push. It rolls off the edge and drops down into the water with a small splash. You watch it float farther and farther, a school of fish trailing just behind. Perhaps they’re drawn to the small spot of light that are the nightshades, just as you are, as you continue to to sit there, until finally the container curves around the bend, and you can no longer see it. You still don’t move after it’s disappeared, rooted to the spot for several seconds as you take in the moment, memorizing how bright the sun is this morning, how cool the grass is, how contented you are to have done what you did. Life feels a little different now—a little brighter, a little more full of love.

Then your brows furrow, your eyes lowering from the sky back to the river. And it’s odd, you think, that all this feels vaguely familiar…

“[Name]!”

You twist around at the sound of your name. Sidon is standing just off the path, waving at you even though you’ve no need for that to notice him there. He’s tall, and his red scales stand out from the blue sky. His smile is big as he walks closer and asks what you’ve been up to.

You shake your head and stand, brushing off the dirt from your pants. Nothing, you say. Thankfully he doesn’t pry, and having sensed your desire to keep what has transpired a secret, he changes the subject. He invites you to breakfast, and you’re about to accept, but your stomach answers for you and growls. This prompts you to grin sheepishly.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Sidon remarks. Then he laughs, and it is truly wonderful to hear.

The day is already looking to be quite splendid, and there’s no one else you’d rather spend it with. Whenever you should finally gain the courage to tell Sidon you love him, you can only hope he feels the same.

#sidon x reader #prince sidon x reader #sidon imagine #prince sidon imagine #botw imagine #botw x reader #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda imagine #legend of zelda #bubble-tea-bunny #queue

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made-me-deep-blue · 6 years ago

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choices secret Santa - give you the world (m!hunter x mc)

To the beautiful @aloehasrose, I’m your secret Santa this year! I hope you love this fic as much as I did writing it as I tried my very best to include as much of the things that you prefered within my comfort zone x

Based on the song ‘Give You The World’ sung by Jessica Karpov from the anime ‘Carole and Tuesday’! Hope you like it <3

Props to @andi-the-cat for hosting this secret Santa! Lots of love baby xoxo

Camille liked silent nights.

Something she’d favoured and preferred whilst growing up. A night where it was only just her and nature.

With fate having its own plans, Camille didn’t have much time to take a breather, something that she pretty much enjoyed while she was still ‘trapped’ at the library with her horrendously, dry job. Thank goodness the library had collections of romance novels to keep her company.

The lady stared at her wine glass for a moment, before scoffing and shaking her head, laughing to herself. “Thank goodness this is something I poured out myself. I think I’m going to be staying away from wine, any kind really, from now on.”

“A wise choice, my lady.”

The male voice intruding her seemingly silent night made her choke on her drink.

Camille didn’t let the anger and annoyance rise so quickly, however. After getting her body back (thank the gods) from the hallucinations and terrible symptoms that the god-damned Cantarella was giving her, she felt like needed to...sink into the feeling of having her emotions and her body, really, in control.

But that felt way out of her league at the moment. She felt like she couldn’t bring herself to display some good emotions and attitude.

So Camille spun on her heel, shooting King-Regent Hunter Fierro an icy glare from where he was leaning against the doorframe.

“First of all, I’m even surprised dear Vasco didn’t even intervene in your timely visit, Your Regency,” Camille drawled. “Second of all, whatever could you possibly need from my personal sanctuary, Hunter?”

From the way she phrased her words, Hunter immediately raised his hands in silent defence, using one of them to close the door gently behind him. “Pardon the intrusion then, my lady. I just...wanted to check on you. I hope that’s alright with you.”

“Is that your way of flirting with me, Hunter Fierro?”

“H-Hey! I was just being concerned and gravely worried for you, alright? I hope that answer...suffices, Camille,” Hunter looked at the floor sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Camille laughed, a melodious and shimmering sound carrying across the air and into the late night. She waved a dismissive hand in front of her. “I’m just teasing, Hunter. But do be warned, I’m not really in the best mood since you decided to intrude my night alone.”

Camille liked the way the King-Regent acted around her, compared to the very calm and composed, cheeky and flirty demeanour he usually displays whenever he was on his duties at court or during social events where ladies would flock to him like birds. He was always reduced to a puddle of an awkward and dorky mess every time she was around him.

However, given how his twin sister Renza had broken that trust they had formed during their time together, despite not being part of her scheme, Hunter needed to redeem himself as Renza’s twin brother.

Maybe the poison had already eaten too far into her mind and senses that she couldn’t even tell reality and the dream world apart.

You keep me holding on Bated breath, it's always something

Hunter walked closer, carefully, to be exact. He didn’t want to overwhelm the woman he loved so dearly, especially when she just recovered from the poisoning she didn’t know she had been receiving at all of those social events they were attending the past few weeks. And when it was his sister doing all the dirty work.

“I know with everything going on revolving around my sister and...my House, in general, you still might not trust me,” Hunter’s boots clicked against the polished marble floor. He soon joined Camille at the balcony. “I want to rebuild that trust between us...if you would allow me.”

Camille felt the mood built in the atmosphere, but she couldn’t help tease the King-Regent again. Ah, a true lady of House Rosario, indeed.

“Sure, I’ll consider that proposal, Your Regency,” she mused, with a raised eyebrow. “If you would do the pleasures of having a private dance with me right now. You know, the one that your very lovely, Crown Shield stole from you on the night we first met.”

Baby, you like to play your games Messing with my brain like it's nothing

Hunter then laughed, the manly but yet soothing voice, music to Camille’s ears. “Kayden isn’t usually easily intrigued, mind you. She only pays attention to suspicious people—”

“Oh, so you’re saying that I’m suspicious?” Camille placed a hand on her hip, sipping on her sparkling tonic. “My, my, Your Regency, I might tell dear Kayden tomorrow that I favour her more than the Regent whom she protects, who is also very poor in terms of courtship—”

When you call, I come running right over the edge And I'm falling, mmhmm

As fast as a shooting star, Hunter swept Camille into his powerful and strong arms, tucking his head into the crook of the woman’s neck. Camille felt his fingers lightly pressing into her small of her back, the heat radiating from the pads of his fingers reaching her through the thin fabric of her nightgown, which was doing a fair job of covering her lower half.

“I was going to finish my sentence, Lady Camille,” Hunter murmured into Camille’s skin, causing the woman’s skin to turn pebbled. “And if you’re going to address me by my title again, I’m afraid you won’t have your private dance.”

Camille giggled, unable to keep up with the banter they were having. Her sour mood was getting lighter by the minute, surely improved by the Regent’s presence. She gently pushed Hunter away, hands firm on his chest. “Alright, alright, I’ll cooperate with you.”

She slid her left-hand tentatively up Hunter’s right arm, allowing her hand to rest on his bicep while he brushed his left hand up her back, cupping her left shoulder blade. Camille and Hunter locked eyes while his hand wrapped around hers.

Got me chasing these eight letters, three words, just say it "I'm all in"

“Allow us to start off with a simple box step, shall we?” The question came out softer than intended. Like it was an intimate moment shared between them.

Camille gladly welcomed that affection Hunter offered.

“Lead the way.”

Don't you know, baby I would give you the world?

With the moon shining gracing her presence onto Cordonia, its silver light seemed to heighten Camille’s beauty, capturing all the intricate features which no ordinary man could ever describe as how Hunter would. The light in her emerald green eyes was like the pearls of the Cordonian seas; he wanted to plunge deep into the depths of those eyes and drown himself into the sea of Rosario green.

But you take it from me

He definitely could not forget the soft, rosy lips that he managed to relish on his very own that night after they had returned to the estate, escaping from The Legacy.

They were now slightly parted before him, their breaths mingling between their close distances.

Hunter hesitated, but looked away, catching Camille’s attention.

“What is it, Hunter?” She asked.

“Are you…” Hunter grumbled to himself, trying to grapple onto the right words. “Can I kiss you?”

Can't you see I would do Oh, everything for you?

Camille’s breath caught in her throat and shyly nodded as her answer.

I'd steal you the moon, and the sun, the stars, every one If you would just say I'm your girl

Both of them pressed closer together, feeling the heat in their exchanged breaths increase as they met in the centre with a gentle kiss; a promise that neither will break the trust. After they got used to feeling their lips on each other, they kissed with a little more passion, not fervour; a promise to have each other, forever and a day.

I'd give you the world, I'd give you the world, oh-oh

As they pulled apart, Hunter rested his forehead against Camille’s, catching their breaths in this moment. Together. Under the moon and stars. The King-Regent looked into those green eyes again, reflecting Camille’s House’s colour, and admired the light in them. Like a moon up in the sky.

“I’m sorry, so sorry, for whatever that has happened to you, Camille,” Hunter whispered, though Camille thought that she heard his voice crack. “I promise to gain back your trust, no matter what. And then I’ll protect you, with my body and soul, from what fate offers us in her plans. To whatever end.”

Camille squeezed Hunter’s hand, basking in the warmth radiating off his body. “To whatever end?”

“To whatever end, my dearest lady.”

I didn't want no one I was over love, always something

“I’m sorry about losing trust in you though,” Camille said, guilt casting over her eyes. “The poison really ate away into my mind and senses. I couldn’t really distinguish whatever that was real or the hallucinations that I’ve experienced.”

Hunter shook his head. “No, it’s not your fault at all. And as it was mentioned, no one could have known what my sister was up to all this time.”

Baby, you caught me off my guard And held me in your arms Heartbeat pumping

Camille pulled away, looking into Hunter’s brown eyes. Despite it not being in the day, she could see hazel brown under the silver moonlight. “You’re a good person, Hunter. You’re out here as King-Regent, trying to be the best leader out there for the Cordonian people. You may have like an exact carbon copy like you out there scheming for your demise, but what’s important—”

Camille tapped on Hunter’s chest, where his heart lay.

“—is that you are strong, here.”

When you touch me, I melt In your hands like your fire in December, yeah

Hunter laughed, a song to Camille’s ears, as he gathered her in his arms and spun her around in a circle. “Quite a speech, my lady,” he smirked as he pulled apart. “I can’t wait for you to say more of those when you become my Queen.”

“Oh?” Camille raised an impressive brow, a smirk tugging at the end of her lips. She slid her hands up Hunter’s shoulders and cupped the back of his neck. “Bold of you to assume, Lord Fierro. Do you really have whatever it takes to make me your Queen?”

But no matter how close we get You never seem to surrender

Hunter chuckled, a rumble in his chest. “A true lady of House Rosario indeed. Of course, I will do anything in my power as the King-Regent to have you by my side.”

He then positioned themselves back to where they originally were positioned before they were in each other’s arms. “Now, my lady, shall we finish our dance together?”

“Yes, Your—” Camille smiled, feeling looser and better than she was in weeks. “I mean, yes, my lord. We shall.”

Don't you know, baby I would give you the world?

Their feet carried them across the balcony, back and forth. With Camille and Hunter exchanging elegant moves with little effort. Without care to the world around them, whether it was crashing down and burning or it was the end of the universe, they would forever be together. Right here and now, in each other’s company.

But you take it from me

Hunter’s eyes did not leave the woman before him, following his moves with quick precision and elegance of a swan. To think that she knew that much whilst being a library scribe before her world seemed to change overnight with a fateful night at the royal masquerade.

He had met Camille’s adoptive older sister, Annalisa, shortly after she awoke from her coma. Indeed, she was also pretty (as do all of the ladies he had come across in his life), but it somehow did not reach the tier of the beauty of how he saw Camille in his eyes.

Perhaps it did not run in Annalisa’s blood as well.

Can't you see I would do Oh, everything for you?

“Are you alright, Hunter?” Camille asked. “You’re doing that scary thing where you faze out whilst looking deep into my eyes.”

“Can’t I admire them?” Hunter rebuked, earning a smile from his lady. “Or shall I dance with you blindfolded?”

Camille purposely stepped on Hunter’s boot, causing the Regent to bite his lower lip hard to keep his painful howl of protest in, careful to not draw any unwanted attention to Camille’s chamber. “You’re awfully horrible at flirting, Hunter.”

“Please do know that I am, trying my very best.”

“Visibly so,” Camille chuckled, easily following along as Hunter swept his foot in an arc and brought her low. “You have your dashing looks still, so you do not need to fret.”

I'd steal you the moon, and the sun, the stars, every one If you would just say I'm your girl

“But my dashing looks are only for you,” Hunter purred, his breaths coming in hot against Camille’s throat as he dipped her. “Why do you think I picked you to dance with that night at the masquerade then?”

Camille turned contemplative. “Maybe...to look for a new prey? Besides, those ladies around you that night were definitely your familiars.”

Hunter grinned smugly as he brought Camille up, pressing her closer into his warm embrace. “How assumptive of you, Lady Rosario.”

I'd give you the world, I'd give you the world, ooh-ooh-ooh

Hunter held onto the sides of Camille’s waist tight, preparing for a lift.

From where he stood, seeing Camille’s hair flip as she was raised into the air—

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh I'm giving you all of my love

His mouth went dry.

Oh-oh-whoa-oh-oh But boy, it's been long enough, oh Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Camille Rosario was definitely an angel sent from Heaven. It was like she was the embodiment of Aphrodite. Or perhaps even the goddess herself in this human body in his hands.

And when their eyes met in this heat of the moment, Hunter tried his best not to open his hands and drop her onto the ground in awe.

Gods, when did he get so lucky?

Don't you know I would give you the world?

After her feet touched the ground, she spun away from Hunter and then spun right back into his embrace. Next, a twirl, raising up the lady’s arm and conjured her in a spin. Resuming their waltz positioning, they allowed their feet to take them away. To end of their night together.

But you take it from me

Hunter tightened his grip on Camille as he led them, spinning in circles together. That caused the melodious laughter from his dance partner. An angel’s voice.

As he let go and they faced each other, they exchanged a bow and curtsy at the end of their private dance. Hunter then instinctively grabbed ahold of the woman and pulled her in for a passionate kiss.

Can't you see I would do Oh, everything for you?

It took everything in Camille to lightly push away Hunter and tapped the tip of his nose playfully before she could let things escalate, ignoring the guttered look in his beautiful eyes.

“No...not today, Hunter,” Camille said. She slowly slid her hand to cup Hunter’s cheek. It felt warm to the touch. Something she needed tonight. “Perhaps...you could hold me tonight?”

She turned away slightly, as if sheepish and guilty of her answer. “...please?”

The word nearly turned silent on the last vowel, as if from a request turning into a plea, which made Hunter’s heart ache.

I'd steal you the moon, and the sun, the stars, every one If you would just say I'm your girl

Understanding filled Hunter’s eyes. He hooked Camille’s chin with his index finger and tilted it upwards so that he could see her directly, into those lovely, green emeralds he had always admired. From the night they met.

“Yes,” he murmured. He pulled Camille into his well-built, protective arms, allowing her to bask in the warmth of his embrace.

Hunter took in her scent. A lingering scent of lavender, with a hint of cedarwood, lacing together in perfect harmony. He committed it to memory.

“Anything for you, Camille,” Hunter murmured into Camille’s hair. “Anything.”

I'd give you the world, I'd give you the world, oh-oh, oh-oh

Perhaps not all will be lost, if there were more people like Hunter Fierro, in this gods-damned world.

And everything will be alright.

I'd give you the world

#playchoices #choices stories you play #choice: the royal masquerade #the royal masquerade #trm #trm mc #house rosario #hunter fierro #m!hunter fierro #hunter x mc #hunter fierro x mc #choices fanfiction #choices secret santa #choices secret santa 2019 #choices game

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sparxwrites · 8 years ago

Text

(so, the best time to write 3.5k of fic for a new fandom is when you’ve just dislocated your shoulder, right? anyways, have some pre-ittd-ep fic about teens being teens, and thinking about the future. i’m a monster, so it’s as angsty-with-hindsight as i could possibly make it. enjoy!)

cw mentioned homophobia / homophobic slurs, (‘jokey’) suicide mention, drug use, underage drinking

[ao3]

“What do you wanna be when you grow up?” Raina asked, curiously, drifting starfish-like on her back over the dark, glassy surface of her parents’ pool. “Like, when you leave high school, I mean. we’ve only got a year left, so…”

It was October, the schools long since back after the lazy summer holidays – but with the weather hovering in the high seventies, it was still plenty warm for a pool party. Or, rather, a mildly-illicit pool gathering, since Raina’s parents had expressly forbidden any parties when they’d left for a long weekend in the city. Not particularly averse to breaking rules when it suited her – an inevitable consequence of being friends with Kayden and Sat for any length of time – Raina had decided to stick to the letter of the law, rather than the spirit. Five people were hardly a party, she reasoned, and what her parents didn’t know couldn’t hurt them.

Which was how she’d ended up with five people in her pool, and enough booze for ten stacked over various pieces of garden furniture, having a definitely-not-party in the dying light of an early-autumn evening.

“What does who want to be?” asked Sat, from her place on the side of the pool, pressed thigh to thigh with Kayden and sharing a joint with him. He was shirtless, with knee-length cargo shorts rolled up to mid-thigh – whether through laziness, or because he genuinely didn’t own swimwear, was anyone’s guess – and she was in a high-cut black bikini, a scrap of a thing that left little to the imagination.

None of the others had been able to stop staring at her since she undressed.

Raina came to a stop at the edge of the pool by Sat’s legs, clinging to the side like a bedraggled limpet and looking up at her friend. “I don’t know,” she said. “Anyone! Any of you. Hmm… Kayden! What do you wanna be?”

Kayden made a thoughtful noise around the joint pressed to his lips, pulling it away to blow a thin stream of smoke up towards the sky. “I dunno,” he said, words already a little weed-slow, wrinkling his nose. “Dead?”

He laughed – and then stopped, abruptly, when Sat elbowed him hard enough in the side to nearly make him drop the smouldering joint into the pool below. “Not funny, Kayden,” she snapped, though Raina was giggling a little beside her. “Not fucking funny.”

“Fine, fine.” He rolled his eyes, passed the joint over at her beckoning, and rubbing at his ribs as though more pressure would somehow stop it bruising. “High-school dropout, I guess. What?” he asked, when Sat scowled at him through the cloud of smoke between. “Look, I come from a long and prestigious line of alcoholic, trailer-trash addicts who couldn’t even get their fucking GED. It’d be a shame to break tradition.”

“What about marijuana farmer?” called Tanner from half-way across the pool, where he was swimming steady but determined laps. There was, surprisingly, only the slightest hint of mockery to his words.

Kayden grinned, and laughed along with the others, nodding in agreement and ignoring Tanner’s faintly smug smile “Now that’s a career I could get behind,” he agreed, and then sighed at Sat’s crossed-arms scowl beside him.

“Fine, Miss High-and-Mighty,” he said, plucking the joint from her fingers again, and pushing her easily into the pool with a hand between the shoulders. “What to you wanna do, then?”

Sat squealed as she hit the water, flailing desperately in an attempt to avoid going under, and failing dismally. When she resurfaced, it was to squirt a mouthful of water at Kayden, makeup streaming darkly down her cheeks, and with Tanner trying to haul her up out of the water as though he was afraid of her drowning. “Asshole,” she informed him, scrubbing at the running mascara and batting away Tanner’s ‘helpful’ hands.

“Guilty as charged,” agreed Kayden, smirking, lips curling to blow smoke up towards his now sopping wet and pancake-flat mohawk. “Question stands, though. What do you wanna be?”

“Porn star,” she snapped back at him without missing a beat, hauling herself out of the pool to find a towel and clean off her face. She missed the way both Darby and Tanner turn pink and flushed in the low, late-evening light, but Kayden’s gleeful cackle was unmistakeable.

Raina sighed, kicking off from the edge of the pool and setting herself drifting on her back, eyes to the moon. “Oh, come on,” she said, a little sulkily. “It was a genuine question! I wanted real answers, guys.”

Clearing her throat slightly, Darby tore her eyes away from Satine’s hourglass figure in the low light, and nodded. “Yeah, real answers,” she agreed, trailing her tongue across her lower lip in an almost unconscious motion. “We never talk about… college, or work, but Raina’s right. We’re going to be graduating in a year, we need to think about this seriously. About how it’s going to affect all of us.”

Kayden waggled his eyebrows at her, smirking, and she studiously ignored him.

“Fine, fine,” said Sat, returning to the pool edge and settling a safe distance away from Kayden – though not before judiciously poking him in the side with her toes, hard enough to make him jump. “Um. Actress, I guess? Like, a movie star or something.” She looked almost self-conscious, her eyes softer and more open without their usual thick, dark lining. “I dunno. I can’t see myself going to college, and like hell am I gonna work some shitty minimum wage job for the rest of my life, so…”

“Oh, that’s so cool, Sat?” Raina gushed enthusiastically, grinning as she flipped herself upright to tread water. “I can totally see you as an actress, you’re so- so glamorous, and you’re gorgeous, and confident, and-”

“Yeah,” Tanner said, as he stopped his lengths to tread water next to Raina. “You’ll be a great actress, Sat.”

Though it was hard to make out in the low light and with her slightly darker skin, they all saw the way Sat blushed. “Really?” she asked, oddly vulnerable for a moment before her usual wickedly confident smile slid into place. “That’s really sweet of you, Raina, Tanner. …I mean, of course, I’m incredible, but it’s nice to know you guys think so too.”

“Of course you’re incredible,” agreed Tanner, softly, an odd sort of smile on his face as he stared at Sat – and did his best to ignore the barf motions Kayden was making mere feet from her, entirely unsubtly.

Raina ignored all three of them, though whether deliberately or through cheerful obliviousness was anyone’s guess. “So, Darby!” she said, turning in the water to face where Darby was sat on the pool steps – water halfway up her chest in a poor attempt to hide the rather old-fashioned and unflattering swimming costume she was wearing, and a rapidly-emptying wine bottle in her hand. “Last but not least. What do you wanna do?”

“Hey!” objected Tanner, waving a hand in front of Raina’s face unexpectedly enough to make her shriek in surprise and recoil. Darby, across the pool, snorted in amusement. “Hello? What do you mean last but not least? What about me?”

“Everyone knows what you want to be, Tanner,” drawled Kayden, splashing at the water with his feet and tossing the burnt-out roach of the joint behind him. “Let the lady take her turn.”

“Oh yeah?” Tanner snapped back, taking the bait with his usual ease and speed. “What do I wanna be, then?”

The other four look at one another, and then back at Tanner. “Professional photographer,” they all said, in unison – and Sat took advantage of the brief moment of unity to shove Kayden into the pool.

“Ha, ha, ha,” droned Tanner, over Kayden’s howls of indignation, though he did take the opportunity to splash water at the flailing form of his friend. “Very funny. No, I don’t want to be a professional photographer. I want to be an accountant.”

“You assholes,” hissed Kayden, clinging to the edge of the pool and glaring at them all through narrowed eyes, looking for all the world like a pissy cat who’d just taken an unexpected bath. “You know I can’t swim, fuck all of you.”

He was summarily ignored by absolutely everyone on the basis that – swimming skills or no – he didn’t appear to be drowning. Or, at least, didn’t appear to be imminently drowning. A little bit of water and humiliation in front of friends never hurt anyone, after all, though Kayden was doing a good job of sounding like he’d been mortally wounded.

Raina frowned at her friend next to her, though, lower lip sticking out. “Aww, Tanner,” she said, a little sadly, putting her feet down and standing on tiptoes on the pool bottom to rest a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “You don’t want to be an accountant, your dad wants you to be an accountant. That’s not the same thing.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Tanner, biting sarcasm laced through his voice as he swept his overlong hair back from where it was plastered to his forehead. “I’m pretty keen on not being disowned and disinherited, so. Y’know.” He shrugged. “Besides, you guys know what my family thinks about photography. Pretty sure most other people feel the same way. I’m not gonna find much business if I’m that one weird kid with the camera, am I?”

“Yeah, well, your dad’s a fucking prick,” growled Kayden, hauling himself dripping out of the pool and slumping on the tiled edge, breathing heavily and glowering in the general direction of Sat. She stuck her tongue out at him in return, grinning. “So he can go fuck himself, frankly.”

Raina gasped. “Kayden!” she said, eyes wide and bright with shock. “You can’t just-”

“Oh, I absolutely can ‘just’.” He pushed himself up into sitting position, crossing his legs underneath him rather than sticking them back in the water. “The guy called me a fucking faggot last time I saw him. Right to my fucking face. He deserves that, and worse, the shit-mouthed bastard.”

Tanner, though he hadn’t responded to the insults, frowned. “Well, I mean. It’s not like he’s wrong? You are…” he started, quietly, trailing off only when Darby kicked water at him from across the pool and made frantic don’t gestures with a hand across her throat.

“Oh, fuck you, asshole,” snarled Kayden, flipping him the bird with one hand and combing fingers shaking faintly with anger through his ‘hawk with the other. The heavily hair-sprayed hair had gotten tangled with the water, sticking out in all directions against his scalp. “Jesus shit, you’re gonna try and defend that crap? Five fucking years we’ve been friends, and you still have no fucking- god. Fucking hell.”

“It’s… that’s not the point, Tanner,” said Raina to him, quietly, as Kayden’s cursing slowly tapered off into unintelligible mumbling. “That’s a shitty word, and your dad knows it. I’m not saying Kayden should have called him- all that stuff, but…”

“Oh,” said Tanner, quietly. “Yeah. Right. Uh… I didn’t mean it like that, Kayden. Just that you… uh. Forget it. Sorry.” He got only a grunt, and Kayden’s middle finger again, in response.

An awkward silence settled over the five of them, broken only by the soft splashes as Tanner went back to his laps – his strokes a little more aggressive than before – and the paper-crinkle of Kayden rolling another joint.

“…I want to be a teacher,” said Darby, finally, when the quiet started to feel like a physical itch and it became clear no one else was going to speak first. “When I leave high school, I mean. Or, when I leave college, I guess, since you’d need to study for that sort of thing.” She smiled at Raina as the other girl doggy-paddled over to her, shifting sideways where she was sat half-immersed on the pool steps to make room for her friend. “I’m not sure, really, but I guess college is plenty of time to decide, right?”

Raina settled next to her, leaning her head on Darby’s shoulder. “But you hate kids, though!” she said. “Or, well, not hate, I guess, but you always talk about how annoying the elementary and middle-school kids are…”

“Oh, god no, I don’t want to teach kids.” Darby shuddered, and took another sip from the wine bottle, staining her tongue and lips an even deeper purple-red. “No, I mean I want to teach college students. Be a lecturer, I guess? I’m not sure what I’d want to lecture in, but maybe geography, or geology…”

She trailed off, tracing patterns in the water with her free hand and tapping fingers against the wine bottle in the other.

“I can totally see you doing that,” said Raina, thoughtfully, shifting to rest her chin on Darby’s shoulder and peer at her friend’s profile in the late evening darkness. “You could do pretty much anything you set your mind to, though. You’re so stubborn when it comes to stuff like that. You’ll do great, teacher or not.”

Darby merely shrugged, and smiled a little shyly – but as close to Darby’s cheeks as she was, Raina could see the pleased blush that coloured them at the compliment.

Slipping back into the pool, Sat swan away from the awkward tension still bubbling between the boys to join the other girls on the steps, and to steal the wine from Darby. The effort was slightly ruined by the fact that Tanner immediately swam after her to settle on the steps too, but she ignored him in favour of taking a large gulp of wine.

“And what do you want to do, Raina?” she asked, once she’d swallowed the cheap alcohol, pulling a face at the vinegar-sharp taste of it. “C’mon, we’ve all aired our dreams for your amusement. Spill.”

Raina actually blushed, plucking the wine bottle from Sat’s unresisting hand and taking a long gulp. “I, uh… I’ve actually already applied to some art schools,” she said, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand and playing nervously with her hair. “My mom and dad encouraged me to, over the summer, and I thought- well, the worst that can happen is they turn me down, right?”

“Fuck off,” called Kayden from across the pool, in a friendly sort of way. He sounded almost impressed. “Really?”

“Yeah!” said Raina, enthusiastically. “All you gotta do is write a letter, and have a portfolio to send them – I photocopied a bunch of my artwork at the library – and pay the application fee…” She shrugged, looking down at her lap, apparently embarrassed. “I mean, it wasn’t like, super hard or anything? I already had the art, and…”

Sat hummed thoughtfully. “Well, look at you, little Miss Organised!” she teased gently. “You’re gonna have a college offer before any of us even have a plan.” She smiled, and nudged Raina with her shoulder companionably, before squinting through the growing darkness at where Kayden was still sat on the other side of the pool. “Hey! Kayden! Get over here and help me give Raina shit for how smart and organised she is!”

Across the pool, Kayden blew a cloud of smoke in their general direction and stuck his tongue out. “What part of can’t fucking swim are you guys not getting?” he called back. “Jesus. I don’t even know why I agreed to come to this thing, I fucking hate pools. No way you’re getting me in one.”

“You’ve already been in, asshole,” said Tanner. He sounded exasperated, but he was smiling, a soft, crooked quirk-up of one corner of his lips. “You’re already damp. May as well come and at least sit with us, huh?”

“Only if I can sit on your lap, sweetheart,” Kayden taunted – but he was already padding his way round the edge of the pool to squeeze into the space left between Tanner and Sat, handing off the half-smoked joint to whomever’s fingers were grabbing at it. He leaned back against Sat, the line of his spine pressed into her upper arm, and swung his legs up over Tanner’s lap to prod at Raina’s thighs with his toes.

Tanner sighed, rolling his eyes, but didn’t object, especially when Sat shifted her arm from behind Kayden to drape over his shoulder. “Asshole,” he repeated, but there was no bite to it. Not even when Kayden smirked, and blew a weed-laced kiss directly into his face.

For a long moment, a companionable sort of silence passed over the group, as they sat in the shallows of the slowly-cooling pool and watched the stars come out, one by one. The joint was passed around until it burnt down to a stub, and the quiet was interrupted only by Darby disentangling herself from Raina to go and get another bottle of alcohol, given Raina had finished off the previous one.

“We’re… we’re gonna stay friends, though, right, guys?” asked Raina, eventually, as Darby settled back in at her side with a bottle of Jack Daniels, no doubt stolen from some unfortunate off-license by Kayden’s wandering fingers. “After this year. I mean… if we all go off and do different things, we’ll still stay in touch?”

“Of course,” said Darby, immediately, fierce and more than a little wine-drunk. She grabbed at Raina, as though concerned the other girl was planning on leaving there and then, and dragged her close in a wonky, one-armed hug.

Nodding, Tanner, looked at all of them, a soft sort of smile at the corners of his eyes. “We’ll stay friends,” he said, quietly. “You guys are real important to me, you know that? I’m not gonna let us just drift apart, not if I’ve got a say in it.”

“Aww! Tanner’s gone all sappy,” teased Sat, leaning over to pinch his cheek hard enough to turn it pink. “But yeah, what he said.” She raised an eyebrow at Kayden, where he was slumped against her. “What about you, Kayden?”

Kayden shrugged, making a seesawing motion with one hand, and then grinned as he grabbed for the bottle of whiskey. “Nah, I’m just fucking with you. You lot are the only assholes I’ve found so far that’ll put up with me.” He took a long drink, and handed it back towards Darby’s grasping fingers, stealing the joint back from Raina to replace it. “I’d be dumb to let you just run off. You’re stuck with me for life, now.”

“Oh, joy of joys,” intoned Tanner, but he was grinning too as he flicked at Kayden’s toes where they were settled on his lap.

Raina grinned, bright and radiant, and hugged Darby right back, even as she beamed at the rest of them. “Well, I’ll drink to that!” she said, stealing the bottle of Jack from Darby just as she had with the wine. “Uh… not, like, to that bit about being stuck with Kayden for life. No offence Kayden. But- to friendship! To sticking together.”

“To friendship,” the others echoed after her, as the Jack was passed around like communion wine.

The liquor burned as it went down, settling warm in their stomachs – and though, theoretically, only a single sip was needed to toast the toast, seal the deal, they were high schoolers. One sip turned to two, to three, until the bottle was empty and they were onto the next. As the night spread dark and star-specked high above them, they huddled together in the shallows of the pool steps, drunk and laughing and confident in the knowledge that nothing – nothing – would ever tear their little group apart.

#sagas of sundry #sos dread #fic #are we allowed to maintag fic? who knows but this is fairly pg and canon-compliant so i'm gonna go ahead and do so anyways #man these fucked up kids are fun to write. what delightful characters!!!!!

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